


Dragon Effect

by tklivory



Series: The Inn Between Loads [4]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins, Mass Effect
Genre: Crossover, Humor, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 12:52:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tklivory/pseuds/tklivory





	Dragon Effect

Zevran Arainai rubbed at the stinging line on his neck as he passed through the door to the _Inn Between Loads_ , muttering, “I must be losing my touch.” As had become the game between them, the huge hand appeared in front of him, palm up, waiting to be filled with his weapons. “You are so picky,” he complained with a grin, and once again divested himself of his assorted weaponry. “Although today, I have very minimal weapons. The Warden didn’t even bother to wake me up this time. Ah, so sad.”

These words earned him a semi-sympathetic grunt, but the hand did not move.

Heaving a sigh, he said conversationally, “Someday you are going to have to tell me how you can tell I’m not done yet.” Reaching down, he removed the curved dagger from the curl of his boot’s cuff and placed it on the pile in the huge monstrosity of a paw. “There. Satisfied? Or, at least, as much as you can be without one of my special Antivan massages?”

The bouncer answered with a grunt as the hand finally moved, and Zevran shrugged as he entered. “Have it your way.”

As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he looked around the Inn, hoping to catch a glimpse of some familiar faces. Sadly, the Italian assassin Ezio and his new compatriot, the shy but adorable Connor, were not present. Neither were some of his other Inn-only acquaintances. _Ah, well. It would have been nice to have a drink with John and his odd hat or Adam and his peculiar glasses. Time to make some new friends, I suppose._

“Are you sure this is the right place?”

He turned at the sound of a woman’s voice, a broad smile already on his face out of sheer principle, then took a step back as he saw the woman’s tall, scar-faced companion. Of course, it was not the scars that first drew attention, but the fact that the individual wasn’t human, elf, or dwarf. Tall, thin, with an almost mandibular mouth and chitinous skin... _My_ word _, who - and what - is he... or she?_ He pursed his lips. _And do they like massage?_

“The ones in the Omega Nebula are shut down for repairs ever since the fanbase blew up,” the second figure said, his voice confirming that he was, in fact, male. “This is the right sector and coordinates. Looks like we’re stuck here for now, Ash.”

The woman sighed, handing a helmet and a much larger version of what he’d learned was called a blaster than he’d ever seen over to the hulking bouncer. “Fine. And it’s Ashley, not Ash, or I’ll start calling you Gar.”

“Please. Don’t.” They continued their companionable bickering until they sat down at a nearby table, ordering their drinks from the skeletal bartender. Once they were settled, the tall, odd looking one commented, “Miranda said _she_ liked it here during the last reboot.”

 _Miranda? Oh, I remember_ her, _indeed._ Zevran straightened his leather armor and approached the pair, making sure his hands were in the open since both clearly had the air of ‘alert soldier’. “Ah, greetings! I couldn’t help but overhear that you were new to this particular establishment. And did you mention the divine Miranda?”

The woman snorted. “Oh, look, another man dazzled by Miranda’s ‘assets’.” Her face reflected more good humor than her voice, but it _was_ present, at least. “And I suppose you want to show us the ropes here out of the kindness of your heart?”

“Now, Ashley, we _are_ the invaders here, so to speak,” the other one said. Standing, he held out a hand whose two thick fingers and thumb absolutely fascinated the elf. “You can call me Garrus. This is Ashley.”

“Zevran.” He kept to a shortened introduction to match the brevity of theirs as he exchanged a quick handshake. “So, may I join you?”

Ashely sighed. “Sure, why not? I just want to get back to Shepard. He needs me.”

Pausing in the act of sitting down, Garrus frowned. “We’ve had this discussion before. Shepard is a woman - a beautiful one.”

“I don’t know what turian hallucinogen you’re ingesting over there, champ, but last I looked, he was definitely packing something that didn’t match my own equipment.”

“Odd, because when _I_ last looked, it was definitely something I could sink my--”

The drinks arrived just in the nick of time, the skeleton with the white glow deep in his eye sockets setting them onto the table with just enough force to be audible, including something for Zevran - Antivan brandy, naturally. He nodded at the bartender before returning his attention to the duo in front of him, now looking at each other with a bit of mulishness in their demeanor. “So, to one of you this _Shepard_ is a man, and to the other a woman? Has this never come up in the... Omega Nebula, I believe you said?”

Garrus shrugged as he picked up a metal glass with a strange, foaming concoction within. “We didn’t arrive here together. She was standing outside the door--”

“I was _trying_ to find something more specific than _Inn_ on the sign! Like I said, I wasn’t sure this was the right place.” She gripped her own drink and took a quick pull from it. “And even in the Omega Nebula, we rarely ran into each other.” She shrugged. “Although I’ve noticed I never run into Kaidan over there. Odd...” Her face frowned as she tried to figure out why.

“Well, I think I can describe this Shepard, though I’ve never met him - or her,” Zevran said with a grin, leaning back in his seat. “Strong, decisive, a true leader, and destined to save the... ah, galaxy, I think was the word Miranda used. Has a unique feature about them, in the form of power or knowledge to which only they have access. Possesses an astonishing knack to get out of situations everyone else would call impossible. Oh, and also attractive and a good lover, yes?”

They stared at him, both caught in the position of their drinks raised halfway to their lips. “How did you--” Garrus clinked his glass down on the table. “I thought you didn’t know her.”

 _“Him,”_ Ashley hissed.

“Ah, but you see, I know someone just like him - ah, her, though I always call that one ‘the Warden.’ And sometimes they’re a human, or an elf - such as I - or a dwarf - a short human, if you’ve never met one - and sometimes he’s a male, and sometimes she’s a woman.: He blinked at their confused faces. “Ah, surely you’ve realized the nature of the Hero? Sadly, we never see them here, just as we never remember our time here when we return.”

“But the Illusive Man said it was just a Reaper--” Ashley began, then stopped and gritted her teeth. “Listen to me. I’d rather jump out of an airlock in flight or ride the Mako with Wrex behind the controls before believing anything _he_ said ever again.”

Garrus, meanwhile, had drained his cup empty and held it aloft. “More!”

“Zev?” a familiar voice said from behind him.

“Alistair, my good friend! Come, join us!” He patted the man’s shoulder in sympathy as he sat down, noticing a similar line on the man’s neck as he’d had when first entering. “Ah, an ambitious Cousland, I take it?”

“Tell me about it,” he grimaced as he signaled the bartender for his usual spiced dwarven mead. “Much as I dislike the bastard, I have a feeling he’s going to feed Loghain to the Archdemon, too. Poor sod. He’ll be there to comfort Anora, no doubt.” He sighed and sat back in his chair, starting to take off his greaves. “Give me a nice, gentle Surana any Blight, I’m telling you. Preferably a beautiful one. I’m not a Templar any more, after all.” His face was a bit wistful.

Zevran chuckled, then quickly made introductions around the table. “I was just telling them the nature of the Inn. Apparently, they’ve been getting false information from one of their acquaintances about the nature of these places.” He looked at Ashley to ask a question, but noticed that she was muttering into the depths of her drink and turned to Garrus instead. “So, this is the _Inn Between Loads_ here. What is the one you normally, ah, frequent, hmm?”

“Oh, there’s a couple. My favorite is _In Flux_ , but Wrex swears by _To Eternity and Beyond._ ” He shrugged as the bartender brought his refill and Alistair’s drink, then left quietly. “Both must be out of commission right now, though.” His face grew thoughtful. “So, can you kill someone in one of these places?”

“I’d _really_ like to know,” snapped Ashley. “I’ve got the perfect candidate in mind.”

“Ah... You know, I’ve never attempted it,” Zevran admitted. “I wouldn’t suggest it, particularly in this establishment. The bartender--”

They all looked at the tall hooded and cloaked skeleton with the depths of infinity in his eyes.

“Ah, good point.” Garrus nodded. “You know, it’s a bit odd, but he looks exactly like the bartender at _In Flux_.”

“And the one at _To Eternity and Beyond.”_ She raised an eyebrow as Garrus looked at her. “What? It’s peaceful there. I get tired of all the death and killing, you know.”

Sensing an opening, Zevran smiled and leaned forward. “You know, I am rather skilled at the art of massage. Perhaps I could help ease some of that terrible tension of yours.”

She drained her cup, then put it on the table. “Like I’m supposed to trust you.”

“He really is quite good, you know,” Alistair put in, a bit surprisingly. “I’ve never seen any of the Wardens be anything _but_ relaxed and satisfied after a session with him, and I’ve seen plenty.”

“Really?” She reached up and massaged her neck. “It has been a bit stressful on the Normandy...”

“I’ll even use a massage oil of your choice, yes?” He stood and offered her a hand. “Come. Once you’ve had an Antivan massage, the whole aftergame will be a delightful place, I promise you.”

Ashley hesitated a moment more, looking at Zevran, then at the helpful, completely earnest Alistair. Finally she shrugged. “What’s the worst that can happen?” she grumped. “All right, lead on.”

Zevran stood and bowed, then led the way back to the room that was his by standing arrangement. After all, Susan, the bartender’s granddaughter, enjoyed an Antivan massage herself on occasion...

Behind them, Garrus leaned over and whispered to Alistair, “Is he really that good?”

Alistair chuckled as he picked up his mead. “Let’s just say he knows where to apply the right pressure and leave it at that.”

Garrus thought about it. “Ashley does very well under pressure, I’ve noticed.”

“There, see? Shouldn’t be a problem then. Now, drink up, you never know when the call will come, do you?” He took a deep pull and smacked his lips, then blinked as he looked at the entrance. “What is _that?”_

Garrus turned just as the newcomer, a floating blob with dangling tentacles, asked the bouncer, “This one would like to know if this establishment accepts credits as compensation.”

With a sigh, he also drained his glass of Full Biotic Kick before leaning forward. “This might take a while...”


End file.
